


Bandages

by WolffyLuna



Category: Guild Wars
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Fluff, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trahearne is sore and lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bandages

Trahearne lay down on the bed, rewriting the notes from his latest journey to Orr. He’d scrawled and scribbled the original ones, writing as fast as he could, and he could barely read them now. Not that his handwriting at the moment was any more readable, thanks to having to use his non dominant hand. 

He set down his quill and rubbed his injured shoulder. It throbbed and complained at the contact. He hissed, and took his hand back. It hurt more when he touched it, but the contrast made the dull ache more tolerable. 

It had healed somewhat since he’d got it.. He’d never been the greatest mender, so he let it heal naturally. The fact he rowed most of the way back from Orr didn’t help it though. (His little ship had sails, Kahedins had helped with that, but his departure coincided with a lull in the tradewinds.)

At least it didn’t seem infected, or corrupted. 

He turned back to his notes. What is this word? ‘Lichen’? ...’Children’? Oh, ‘Chickens’. 

His stomach fluttered with a little burst of empathy. Home, warmth, love. He pushed it down. Caithe and Faolain must have been courting, whispering secrets and enjoying each other’s company. That’s what it was. Nothing relevant to him. He turned back to his notes, trying to ignore it. 

It still distracted him, as much as he tried. He didn’t want to feel jealous of his sisters, but... When he returned to the Grove, he wanted to see Riannoc. He’d been waiting , he’d been in Orr for months; cold, lonely months, and he just wanted to curl up next to his dearheart and spend time with him. To be warm and safe and close together. 

When he found out Riannoc had left the Grove some time ago, he retreated to their house. If he couldn’t have Riannoc, then he could at least be alone. He could live with being warm and safe and lonely, waiting till Riannoc came back. 

The flutter happened again. Whoever was feeling it had come closer. It wasn’t Caithe or Faolain, either. It felt different from them, a slightly different flavour. It was open; not like the quiet, dark feelings of his sisters. Trahearne couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

It felt almost like Riannoc. 

He buried himself in his notes again. It was highly unlikely that Riannoc would arrive just as he’s started moping. It was most likely a false positive. (Like climbing a tower full of Risen and finding a book on the summit-- which had precisely nothing to do with what you were looking for.) 

The sensation strengthened, became more and more clearly Riannoc. Maybe it was him? Maybe he had returned?

Riannoc opened the door, breaking Trahearne’s reverie, and looking brighter and happier than anything Trahearne had seen in months. He smiled, showing his teeth. “Trahearne.” 

Trahearne stood up and walked over to Riannoc, his foul mood lifted. “Riannoc.”

They embraced, Riannoc squeezing around Trahearne’s elbows. “It is good to see you back. I hope I didn’t leave you alone too long.” 

“I have only been here a few days. I’m just glad to see you.”

Riannoc kissed him on the cheek. “Me too.” He slid his hands upwards, onto Trahearne’s shoulders. 

Trahearne hissed. 

Riannoc jerked his hands back. “Are you alright?”

“I am fine. It’s just a minor injury.” 

“I know it takes more than a minor injury to make you hiss like.”

“I’m alright.”

“Can I at least have a look?” 

Trahearne nodded. There wasn’t much point trying to stop Riannoc when he was in a mother hen mood, and he was a better mender. 

Riannoc lead Trahearne over to the bed and made him sit down on the edge. He put his pack down, and moved the books of notes out of the way. “‘Watch out for chickens?’ I definitely can’t read your handwriting.”

Trahearne half turned around to look at the book. “No, that’s what it says. The risen ones are explosive.” 

Riannoc sat down behind Trahearne. “Oh. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever run into them.” He took off Trahearne’s shirt and lay it down on top of the books. He breathed in sharply when he saw the wound. “How did you get this?”

“Didn’t run fast enough.” He wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

Riannoc made a clucking noise with his tongue. “How old is this?”

Trahearne knit his eyebrows as he did the mental calculation. “I returned to the coast one day after the injury, and the trip across the Strait took about two weeks. I did mend it after I got it, but--” While he had discovered mending, he’d never mastered it. 

“You must have opened it while you were rowing.”

“It’s not open.” He remembered opening it on too vigorous of a stroke, but it had closed again. He would have sworn on it. 

“You can’t see your back.” 

“Oh.”

Riannoc reached over to his pack and rummaged through it “It’s not so bad. Just needs someone who can see it all.” He sat up, and rested his left hand on Trahearne’s spine, steadying it. “Ready?” 

Trahearne nodded. 

Riannoc pressed the needle in, and started stitching. 

It hurt, but the pain already in his shoulder covered it, and he was used to be stitched by now. You didn’t spend time in Orr without getting covered in deep cuts, especially if you hadn’t discovered shoes yet. Riannoc was at least good at it, with quick, neat stitches. 

Riannoc finished off the last stitch, and stabbed the needle into the bed covering to keep track of it. He rummaged through his pack again. “It should be here--” 

Trahearne half turned, as far as his shoulder would let him. “Do you need any help?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve found it.” He pulled a roll of bandages out of his pack. “Your arm, please.”

Trahearne held his arm out to the side while Riannoc wrapped the bandage around his shoulder. When he finished, Riannoc stuck the needle through the layers of the bandage, and back out again, to hold it in place. 

“Thank you,” Trahearne said. 

“It was no trouble. Though it would be best if you didn’t get in quite as many scrapes.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Trahearne leaned back affectionately onto Riannoc. 

Riannoc grunted in pain.

Trahearne leaned forward, off Riannoc. He turned around. “Are you alright?” 

“A bit bruised, is all.” 

Trahearne raised an eyebrow. He knew Riannoc brushed off his own just as much as he did. Riannoc could lose an entire arm, and he would claim he was fine. 

Riannoc rolled his eyes, and lifted his shirt, revealing a livid bruise on the left side of his stomach. 

Trahearne turned and leaned forward to get a better look at it. It was large, and its colour was still strong, but it was much closer to Riannoc’s normal bark would be then a fresh one. 

“I may have angered a dolyak.” 

Trahearne looked up and blinked a couple times. While part of him knew that it was better to not question exactly how Riannoc got into his various misadventures, but he couldn’t quite turn his curiosity off. 

Riannoc wasn’t forthcoming. “At least it’s teeth were blunt.” 

Trahearne sat back up. “I wouldn’t want you to get badly hurt.” 

Riannoc kissed his forehead. “I wouldn’t want you to get badly hurt either, dearheart.”

Trahearne smiled. “I guess we both have to get a little better.”

“And we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to LukeVonCastiel for their playlist 'To Know Death' (http://8tracks.com/lukevoncastiel/to-know-death/) which helped greatly with writing this.


End file.
